


Detox and Retox

by parkguardian



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-27 21:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1722830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkguardian/pseuds/parkguardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank's expecting the following year to be filled with the pains of a one-sided crush. Mikey's had a run in with his ex. It's Valentine's Day and they are shit out of luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Detox and Retox

**Author's Note:**

> valentine's day was a long time ago but i never had the chance to post this before now!! my prompt was "frank, go home, you're drunk." enjoy!

The kick drum crawled into his veins and pulsated there, wiring him giddy. The lights flickered from pinks to yellows, a chord progression so loud in his ears that he couldn't hear Mikey when he was sitting right next to him. Their legs were pushed together and tangled under the table, clinging to one another in the curved booth at the back of the club. Frank tipped his head back and drained another shot glass.

He slammed the tiny glass onto the table, sending it clinking into its exact replicas. They all had the dregs of alcohol pooling in the bottom. There were almost twenty of the glasses all lined up like an armada.

Mikey pushed his face into Frank's shoulder, face wet with tears or sweat and fuck else. He was shaking pretty badly, almost crawling into Frank's lap at this point. Frank wrapped his arms around Mikey's tiny waist and locked his hands together, as if it would prevent him from getting up for another panicked smoke. Frank bumped his legs up under the table, rattling all the glasses as he jumped around to the beat of the music.

"Need a smoke," Mikey yelled into Frank's ear. He could barely hear the words over the buzz of music. He could feel the words, though, he definitely felt them being mouthed against his skin as Mikey pressed his lips onto Frank's cheek.

"I wanna dance," Frank pouted. He couldn't taste anything anymore, but he wanted to keep drinking. Holy fuck, was he drunk. Frank had been watching the dizzying sway of people out on the dancefloor too long. He wanted to be in the middle of it all, someone pressing into his back and another leaning in on his front. He needed that right now.

Mikey needed him, though. He wanted Frank to be there for him.

"Smoke first," Mikey said. They untangled their arms and legs, stumbling over each other on the way to the bathroom. Mikey yanked out a bag from his pocket and set it down on the counter beside the sink. Frank leaned on the dirty walls, graffiti splattering every which way behind him.

Mikey rolled his joint sloppily. Frank couldn't see clearly. Mikey's hands were shaking so hard he looked blurry. Frank's stomach twisted a little. The smell of the smoke was sickening in the sense that Frank wanted one immediately. 

He wanted to raise the joint to his own lips, though he was slightly paranoid that if he got a flame anywhere near his tongue, he'd have enough alcohol on it to ignite the entire club in seconds. He couldn't comprehend how Mikey hadn't become the Human Torch at this point.

"Fuck!" Mikey sighed around the joint, blowing smoke through his teeth. The club's music was muted in the hell hole of a restroom. The floors were littered in pools of questionable substances and toilet paper. Frank could still feel the bass through the walls.

"Think they're gonna cut us off," Frank groaned, bouncing a little on his heels.

"Wan' go home?" Mikey asked. He propped his weight on the counter, the joint limp between his fingers.

Frank nearly teetered over, swaying a little. He caught himself at the last minute, looking up at Mikey's watery eyes. He reconsidered his want to be in a sea of strangers. If he had to smell any more sweat he might be sick.

Well, that was the original goal of the night. Valentine's Day was the best days to drown your sorrows. Mikey was even more motivated because he'd rammed into his ex-girlfriend, Alicia, at the grocery earlier and she wasn't alone.

"Shopping with someone else? That's not what 'just friends' do," Mikey had moaned, fifteen drinks earlier. "Especially not on fucking Valentine's Day."

So, yeah. Mikey wasn't doing well. Frank was on par with Mikey, even. The entire time he was holding onto Mikey in the crammed space of the booth, his mind was racing with thoughts of doing the exact same to Mikey's older brother. Odds weren't turning out so well in that department. To this, they drank.

"Yeah. I wanna go home," Frank nodded. "I'mma get the cab, you finish."

"I'd kiss you if I di'n't know your mouth tastes like ass right now," Mikey smiled.

"Fuck you, I'm minty fresh, motherfucker," Frank slurred, popping the middle finger and proceeding to rub at the snot under his nose with the back of his hand. Mikey stuck the joint between his lips smugly, waving a little as Frank threw himself back out into the crowd.

Frank closed up their tab at the bar, leaning way over and blinking prettily at the bartender in a bad attempt to get the price knocked down. It didn't work. The only comfort he had in handing his card over was knowing that MIkey promised in paying him back.

Outside was cold and it felt real. Inside had been a dream, a haze of glitter and strips of skin and straight up scotch. Frank could see his breath outside. Frank could feel the wind cutting into him through his clothing. He was joined a few minutes later by a shivering Mikey and together, they flagged down the cab.

They crawled into the black seats, giggling. The plastic was sticking to the palms of Frank's hands. Mikey somehow remembered his own address, telling it to the driver in the front and digging out a wad of dollar bills from his tight fit jeans. He stuffed it into the driver's hand. Mikey fell onto Frank, laughing and settling into his new high.

"Hold onto me, Frank!" Mikey said, pinning Frank's arms around his waist. "You're my seat belt now, it's...very big responsible."

"You're so fuckin' high, man. Shut up," Frank laughed. He didn't let go of Mikey, though, just held onto his sides so that Mikey wouldn't go flying through the windshield in the event of a crash. Or something. The smeared city skyline was kind of making Frank sick. He opted to watching Mikey's jutting profile instead. It was a swatch of milky greens, reflections from the traffic lights as they drove on.

The cab came to a stop outside of Mikey's apartment building. Frank kicked the door open and clambered out, holding onto Mikey's stick arms as leverage. He stepped on a paper boat that once held a hot dog, the litter muddy and stuck to the sidewalk. He almost slipped on it, but Mikey somehow kept him upright.

He didn't know how they made it up the stairwell. Mikey and Gerard's apartment building looked like a shit hole, but the rooms were nice enough. Mikey had given up on standing. He leaned into Frank, crumpling down so his nose poked Frank in the neck. He was snickering quietly, mumbling one word over and over but Frank couldn't make out what it was.

Frank knocked, shave and a haircut style, on the door to the Way's apartment. The gold number was skewed sideways, the familiar lopsided fourteen quivering a bit as Frank knocked. Gerard was opening the door in seconds. He looked entirely distressed.

"Frank," he said. He let out a sigh of relief and ducked under Mikey's other arm. Together, they held the younger Way brother up on his own two feet. They dragged him over to the tartan couch in the dead centre of the living room. Mikey collapsed onto it, folding in on himself. He was all angles.

Gerard went back and shut the door, locking it by the bolts. Frank remained in a stupor, silently watching as Mikey's face relaxed and his breath went from shallow to even.

Gerard whipped around to face Frank. His mouth was a frown.

"Hey," Frank started.

"No, fuck you, Frank. You're drunk, go home."

Frank's brow furrowed. "What? Gerard, wh--?"

"You didn't even call me. I didn't know where you were--where either of you were! Mikey got all fucked up," Gerard snapped. "You didn't even call."

Frank was struck with an instance of clarity. Gerard was more than protective over his brother. They had an unspoken rule--Mikey and Gerard could get more than shitfaced and high, so long as they did it in the vicinity of each other. Gerard felt relaxed if Mikey were at least in the house smoking pot or sometimes worse. Frank's mind had completely blanked on the idea of inviting Gerard along when he offered to buy Mikey a drink or thirty.

Okay, he'd _thought_ about inviting Gerard as well. He'd thought about it but it was Valentine's Day and he was kind of fucked up because he wanted in Gerard's pants. He overall thought it was not a good idea to invite Gerard to come along. He was immediately regretting said second thoughts.

"Gerard, I-I'm sorry, okay? I just wasn't thinking," Frank stammered.

"No fucking kidding! Who did this to him? Was it Pete? Did he get into a fight with Toro again?" Gerard's voice was tilting up in volume as he continued his questions.

"No, he ran into Alicia," Frank said, wincing at the glare Gerard gave him. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean...I made sure I went with him when he smoked, he just had a lot to drink."

Gerard sighed. He closed his eyes, mouthed something. Frank thought he was counting backward from ten. It was mind numbingly quiet. The silence was almost painful. Then, Gerard's shoulders relaxed.

"Okay. I'm sorry. Shit," he breathed. "I trust you to take care of him, it's just. It's Mikey."

Frank nodded, swallowing roughly. "I know," he said. He barely heard himself say the words.

Gerard's face brightened. He gave a lopsided smile to Frank, punching him lightly in the shoulder. "Fuckin'...invite me next time, asshole."

Just like that, it was easy between them. Gerard pulled Frank in by the sleeve and gave him a big hug. Frank leaned into it, reveled in the feeling of it. He tried not to breathe in the smell of Gerard's hair and his skin. He felt a little too creepy doing that to one of his best friends, though he wouldn't deny the fact he'd done it in the past.

They were extremely careful about being quiet as they tip toed around Mikey's sleeping form. They made it to the kitchen and got large plastic cups of water. They wandered to the back room, to Gerard's room. Gerard had a smaller sofa there, covered in an itchy old blanket. They sat adjacent to each other.

Frank gulped his cup of water down hastily. Gerard sipped at his own, watching Frank over the rim of the glass.

"Hey," Gerard said.

Gerard's socked foot toed at Frank's leg. He nudged his thigh, sticking his feet up under Frank's legs.

"Hi," Frank said. His voice sounded raw. Possibly from yelling over the music earlier.

Frank finished his water and leaned down, setting the empty cup onto the carpet. He took the opportunity to squeeze himself into Gerard's space, squished between the couch cushions and Gerard's waist.

"It's not midnight yet," Gerard mumbled.

"What 'bout it?"

"Not too late to get a valentine," he continued. He took another small sip from his water. Frank's eyebrows raised slightly. He felt like the words pierced through him, sobering him up almost immediately.

"Yeah? You, uh...wanna be my valentine?"

Gerard tried to hide his smile. He nodded a little, grip tightening around the plastic curve of the cup. Frank laughed nervously, nestling into the curve of Gerard's body. He was warm, radiating heat like the surface of the damned sun. He could hear Gerard swallow down more of his water. From tucked under Gerard's arm, he couldn't get a good look at his face without twisting around. He settled on watching the line of Gerard's neck instead.

"Shit, should I have brought flowers or something?"

"I was thinking more elementary style, where I give you all my candy and then you pull my hair at recess," Gerard said.

Frank reached up and tugged at one of Gerard's tangled locks. Gerard's hair was always generally disgusting, either fried from bleach or a rat's nest. It felt greasy under Frank's fingertips, like maybe Gerard had been too busy to remember to shower for a week and a half again. Gerard swatted at his hand, nearly sloshing water over the both of them. He raised the cup back to his lips, draining the rest before twisting around to set the cup at the drawing table's edge.

Gerard's hand settled on Frank's back, his fingers drumming at the edge of Frank's spine. He could feel it through his clothes, rattling through his skin.

"I don't want you getting in another cab, it's like..."

"Late?"

"Too late, yeah," Gerard nodded. "You can just sleep here."

Frank shifted a little, trying to dig himself out from the crease of the sofa. He clamored halfway onto Gerard's lap.

"Mikey took the good couch," Frank mumbled, picking at the fuzz along the line of the cushion. This couch wasn't bad--it was significantly shorter, which meant Frank would be the best candidate to sleep on it, but it didn't mean he wanted to. The fabric was itchy against Frank's back where his shirt was pulling up.

"I have a bed, you know," Gerard said.

Frank narrowly missed elbowing Gerard in the crotch as he clamored over him. He slid off the couch and onto the ground face first. He didn't bother pulling himself to a stand. Rather, he scrambled up onto the middle of Gerard's bed, kicking off his shoes.

Frank had a list of Gerard's laughs, rated from which ones were his favourite. Frank sprawled out over the comforter and Gerard laughed his second-best, the one that was kind of scratchy and squeaky all at once. His nose scrunched up like a bunny.

"You look like a rabbit," Frank commented.

"Scoot over," Gerard said. He made his way up on the bed next to Frank. The mattress creaked under the newly added weight, sinking a little. Frank rolled over when Gerard's fingers came prodding at his sides.

They made their way under the blankets. Gerard insisted he needed three piled up on his bed, whereas Frank usually slept with only a sheet. Frank tried to kick off the blankets, which resulted in Gerard kicking at Frank in protest.

"I need three of them," Gerard said, tugging the blankets up to his chin. "I'll get cold, you motherfucker, keep them on the bed."

"No you won't, you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night in a sweat cocoon," Frank insisted, yanking them out of Gerard's hands.

Gerard shoved two of the blankets over the edge, holding to the final quilt like a lifeline. Frank snaked his arms up around Gerard, listening to his breathing as they lapsed into silence.

Gerard stared at the shapes along the ceiling. He watched the shadows outside the window, letting his mind wander. Frank closed his eyes, preferring the dark behind his eyes to the dark encasing the room. Gerard snuffled a little.

"Frank."

"Yeah?"

"It's too hot, I need to take the blanket off."

Gerard could feel Frank sighing, a stream of warm air fanning across his arm. He knocked the blanket over onto the floor. It crumpled and fell into the pile with the others. Gerard's mouth skewed into a crooked smile.

"Hate you," Frank groaned.

"Sure you do," Gerard said.

Frank fumbled as he sat up. He propped himself up, lazily straddling Gerard. The shadows were melting across Gerard's face, muddling the colour of his eyes and making him look ghost pale in the gloom. He was still smirking, but only just. His hands came to rest on the frame of Frank's hips. Frank's arms were shaking from holding himself up.

Gerard met him halfway.

It wasn't exactly a kiss, as Frank pressed his lips to the corner of Gerard's smile. Gerard was soft where Frank was a jagged edge.

"You're a bad liar," Gerard mumbled against Frank's mouth. Frank laughed.

He scooted down on the bed, snuggling back at Gerard's side. Gerard found Frank's hand and laced their fingers together. Frank shifted, their legs tangled up under the sheet as they found a position most comfortable.

"Oh no, you caught me, I don't actually hate you," Frank deadpanned.

"I hope your hangover sucks tomorrow."


End file.
